


Sausages to the Left of Them, Corn Snacks to the Right

by Small_Hobbit



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2017-02-21
Packaged: 2018-09-23 12:42:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9657920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Small_Hobbit/pseuds/Small_Hobbit
Summary: Sherlock meets Inspector Stanley Hopkins of the River Police at a Met party, who is able to help with a case.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Fan_Flashworks "Party" Challenge.
> 
> Apologies to Tennyson for changing his poem for the title.

“Right, Sherlock, remember what I said.  Polite conversation, don’t insult anyone and we’ll leave in half an hour,” John Watson insisted.  “That’s enough time to show our faces and hopefully not long enough to be escorted off the premises.”  
  
“Yes, yes, you’ve said it all before,” Sherlock replied.  “And I’m not to complain to Lestrade I’ve had to come in the middle of a beautiful experiment.  I was listening when you told me that as well.”  
  
“Good, just remember it!”  John privately hoped Mrs Hudson would have time to remove Sherlock’s ‘beautiful experiment’ before it ate any more of the curtain.  
  
As they walked into the room where the Met party was being held, John was hailed by a fellow rugby fan.  He therefore went over to argue about the current Six Nations tournament, once he’d given Sherlock a final reminder about his expected behaviour.  
  
Sherlock looked round the room and dismissed most of the occupants as being inherently boring.  However there was one younger man he hadn’t met before.  At least it might give him a few minutes of interest before either Sherlock turned away in search of a sausage roll to investigate, or the other man walked off in preference to punching him.  
  
The man, who had been looking out of the window, turned at the sound of Sherlock’s approaching footsteps.  “Hello, Mr Holmes,” he said, “we’ve not formally met.  I’m Inspector Stanley Hopkins of the River Police.”  
  
“In which case,” Sherlock paused, discussing a case was probably not what John had meant by polite conversation, but it was too good an opportunity to miss.  And there was always the vague possibility he might receive a little useful information.  He launched into a description of his problem.  
  
Hopkins listened carefully, nodding on occasion as Sherlock highlighted various facts.  Then he said, “The tides make a lot of difference.  And without more detailed places and timings it would be difficult to pinpoint the exact landing place.”  
  
Sherlock had almost written off any help Hopkins might be able to give, when he realised the inspector was looking round for something to write on.  Clearly he was used to explaining such matters on a flipchart.  Sherlock indicated the space at the end of the table where the food was set out.  
  
Hopkins smoothed the tablecloth and started pointing things out with his finger.  Not satisfied with the impermanence of that method, he picked up a plate of cocktail sausages and laid them end to end to indicate the north bank of the river.  Sherlock collected the other plate of sausages and passed it over.  
  
“Now,” Hopkins continued, “the river bed on the other side is not entirely uniform.”  He picked up a bowl of mixed corn snacks and, carefully selecting each piece, outlined the south bank.  
  
Sherlock watched and asked questions to which Hopkins gave careful thought, before selecting a slice of pizza and cutting it into smaller pieces to indicate the probable passage of the boats which would have been on the river at the time.  
  
“So what you’re saying is there are two, no three, possible directions the bag could have taken, each of which with a distinct landing site,” Sherlock said.  
  
“Exactly.”  Hopkins drew a tray of sandwiches closer to his makeshift map.  “Number one, the egg sandwich route.  Number two, cheese and tomato.”  Some of the tomato was slipping out and threatening to contaminate the river.  Hopkins pulled the rest of the tomato slices out and dropped them back onto the tray.  “Number two, cheese.  And number three, meat unspecified.  I have no idea why they even have this type of sandwich; no-one ever eats them.”  
  
He stood back to admire his handiwork, Sherlock standing next to him.  
  
Suddenly Sherlock said, “Brilliant!  Of course.  I know just where I need to look.  Are you coming?”  
  
“Try and stop me!”  
  
John and Greg watched in surprise as Sherlock and Hopkins hurtled out of the room.  They walked over to see what had been constructed on the table.  
  
“Do you think they’ll object if we eat any of their masterpiece?” John asked, picking up an egg sandwich.  
  
“Nah, we’ll just tell them a tidal wave came along,” Greg replied with a grin.  



	2. The Cavalry to the Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John Watson and Greg Lestrade together go to rescue Sherlock and Hopkins (who also seem to be together)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for LJ's Fanflashworks "Together" Challenge

Greg Lestrade and John Watson were discussing which pub to move onto when they left the Met party when John received a text: <Come at once. Underwood Warehouse>  
  
He showed Greg the message.  “Do you know where that is?”  
  
“Yes, it’s down river.  I’ll drive you.  I presume the text was for both of us.”  
  
“Undoubtedly.  No point in sending two texts when one will do.”  
  
Greg led the way to his car, and as they drove off he put the blue lights on.  
  
“Do you think that’s necessary?” John asked.  
  
“If his Lordship had everything under control he wouldn’t have sent for you.  I’ll switch them off before we get there, we don’t want to alert anyone to our presence, but they’ll get us through this traffic much faster than otherwise.  You can tell me what you know of the case while I drive.”  
  
“I’m assuming it’s the one Gregson brought the other day.  One of the problems Sherlock’s been working on was the disappearance of a bag, presumably lost overboard from a river bus.”  
  
“Given the map we half ate I’d say you were right.  Gregson did mention something to me about it.  He wanted to know if either of the missing men had turned up dead, which they hadn’t.  He said there were a lot of minor details which didn’t fit with anything.”  
  
“That’s the one.  Sherlock told Gregson he could think of four or five ways in which the details could connect, but he’d need to test them out.”  
  
“And we conclude that with Hopkins’ help Sherlock’s worked out where the disappearing bag went.”  
  
“Yep, and they’ve found the bag, and rather more besides,” John said.  “All of which is typical Sherlock.  But I thought you said this Hopkins was a sensible and reserved officer.  He’d hardly be likely to charge off into danger like that.”  
  
“I don’t know him that well.  He’s always been very efficient when we’ve needed information and he has a reputation for being a stickler for doing things correctly when on the job.  Mind you, that’s entirely reasonable, safety on the river is important, as is safety when abseiling down the sides of tall buildings.  However, anyone who can build a map using party food clearly isn’t entirely conventional.”  
  
John laughed.  “And put the two of them together …”  
  
“And you have to call in the cavalry.”  Greg had switched off the blue lights and now pulled up in small car park.  
  
As John got out he said, “I thought we were going to park somewhere unobtrusive.”  
  
“No-one’s going to notice two blokes getting out of a car in a car park.  We’d have more attention if we parked in a side street.  And besides,” Greg looked up from peering through the windscreen of the car next to his, “this is Hopkins’ car.”  
  
They walked together down the pathway.  Suddenly Greg stopped and grabbed John with one arm, whilst pointing with the other.  Two fast motor launches were leaving the warehouse and turning down river.  
  
At the same moment they heard a voice say, “Well, that’s the lot.  Time we were off too.”  
  
Greg had pulled his warrant card out of his pocket when the speaker and his companion came round the corner and, on seeing Greg and John, began to run in the opposite direction.  John and Greg quickly overhauled them, John rugby tackling one to the ground whilst Greg grabbed the other.   
  
Greg picked up a length of rope which was lying on the floor and passed it to John.  “Can you tie them to that pole?  They can stay there until we’re ready for them.”  
  
Entering the warehouse they started to look for Sherlock and Hopkins.  Since there was no-one else around, John shouted out and was relieved when there was an answering shout from Sherlock.  They followed his voice to the far corner.  
  
“You’ll need to take the lift to come and get us,” Sherlock called.  “It’s a bit like a giant dumb waiter.  It’s operated by hauling on the ropes, but you can only reach the ropes if you’re on the lift.”  
  
John and Greg stood on the platform and hauled themselves up to where Sherlock and Stanley were waiting for them.  
  
“How come if you can only operate the lift when you’re standing on it you were stranded on the third floor?” John asked.  
  
“You can reach the ropes from the ground floor, so they hauled the lift down deliberately leaving us up here,” Hopkins explained.  
  
“Did they know who you were?” Greg asked.  
  
“Fortunately not.  They assumed we were kids messing around and so left us here to ‘teach us not to play in abandoned warehouses’,” Hopkins replied.  
  
“We’ve left two men tied up outside, but we’ll need to do something about the boats which sailed,” Greg said.  
  
“That’s all dealt with.  I texted my sergeant.  The boats should by now have been stopped and boarded.”  As Hopkins spoke his phone pinged.  He read the message and grinned.  “Excellent!  Everything worked like clockwork.”  
  
“Apart from being trapped on the third floor of a warehouse,” John said.  
  
“Oh, that’s had its good moments.  And we knew you’d rescue us.”  Hopkins grinned at Sherlock.  
  
The four of them got onto the lift and Hopkins expertly took them back down to the ground level.  
  
John and Greg walked to the entrance and then stopped.  
  
“Now where are they?” Greg asked.  “It can’t take Hopkins that long to tie the lift ropes up again.”  
  
They turned round to see Sherlock and Hopkins kissing in the middle of the warehouse floor.  
  
“So that’s what they were doing while they waited for rescue,” John said.  
  
 


End file.
